6.30.2008

Yelle is not your typical female eletroclash-loving Parisian rapper. Then again, the phrase "female electroclash-loving Parisian rapper" doesn't get kicked around much these days. With an attitude that could out-sass Lily Allen and a fashion style that virtually defines "retro-chic", Yelle has proven herself a force to be messed with. Although the notion of a dance-pop chanteusse rapping entirely in French may seem uncommercial, Yelle's eye-popping, colorful, and flat-out crazy music videos have turned her into a YouTube sensation, logging tens of millions of hits (no joke) and truly breaking down any and all language barriers with her unique sense of fun. Labels notice these things, and earlier this year, Yelle's debut album, POP UP, got a digital release here in the U.S.

Yet during her schedule of touring, junkets, and making more delicious music video eye-candy, Yelle had time to take part in our fourth Aleatory, showing a love of dog snores, a dream of working with Dave Gahan, and having "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" played at her funeral ...

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1. Favorite word?

Putain (fuck).

3. Favorite key to write in?

Be alone.

4. Favorite person to have worked with?

GrandMarnier.

12. Favorite band when you were in high school?

Take That!

14. Favorite sound?

When my dog snores.

30. How many languages do you speak?

Just two: French and English.

31. Other than musician, what career would you most enjoy?

I would love to be a cook.

36. Lyrics first or music first?

It depends; no rules.

39. What's something you could probably beat anyone you know at?

Make grimace.

45. What's the best lie you've ever told?

I’m a bad liar but certainly something for miss[ing] school.

51. What are you currently obsessed with?

I always check if the door is closed 3 or 4 times before leaving my house.

72. A few years ago, Beck gave an interview for SPIN in which he lamented the glut of reality TV shows and blogs about musicians, wanting to know less details about their life because he felt they were more mysterious that way (he liked to envision Devo as living in a crazed art-deco pyramid when he was young, instead of just some guys in a tour bus). Do you feel that there's a lack of mystique out there for musicians in today's YouTube age? Do you feel your band carries any mystique?

I don’t know cause I think we must live in our generation and [be] OK with YouTube, MySpace, [and the] internet in general. But I think you can [have] mystique and have something mysterious around you; it’s not a problem. I come from Brittany and for Parisians, it’s bizarre ...

76. Dream collaboration?

Dave Gahan.

86. With Radiohead's In Rainbows release and Nine Inch Nails doing boffo business with his online releases, do you see yourself ever doing some alterative kind of release for any of your future projects?

Yes I think. Today [it] is complicated to be a musician and to live off your music but we can find solutions and stuff to change relations with the public.

89. You just died. I'm sorry. Fortunately, your will states that you want very specific music to be played at your funeral. What did you choose?

"Girls Just Want to Have Fun," Cyndi Lauper.

91. Which single album should be in everybody's home?

Mine!

92. Which venue are you dying to play but have not yet had the chance to?

I don’t know; maybe in a hot air balloon.

93. Longest show you ever played? What was different?

Maybe it was in Paris in May: [on] a special night, I had [to] sing with Alain Chamfort, a kind of french dandy, good producer, famous in 80’s cause he worked for Lio, and with Gainsbourg at the beginning of his career. It was very cool!

96. The one thing that no one knows about you (yet)?

Nothing.

99. Licensing your music out to companies for TV ads: good or bad?

Maybe bad cause I think TV is not the good way [to] make people love your music, but [through] live show[s], I think concerts are the key.

6.27.2008

Since 1984, Ghost has been a staple of Japan's incredible psych-rock scene. Led by Masaki Batoh, and featuring legendary guitarist Michio Kurihara (who played with Boris on 2007's incredible Rainbow, as well as with Damon & Naomi), Ghost's sound is ever-changing, and as such, impossible to pin down. From blistering hard rock to acid folk to sparse, spacey instrumentals to banjo-centric jams, Ghost does it all. Last year, they released their eighth full-length, In Stormy Nights, as well as Overture: Live in Nippon Yusen Soko 2006, a CD/DVD set chronicling a completely improvised show held in a warehouse, with the band separated from each other and the audience locked in for the duration.

Just back from a visit to the states, where he was touring with Helena Espvall of Espers and Damon & Naomi, Batoh gratefully agreed to take part in our third Aleatory questionnaire, in which he shares his love for the classics and displays a humble charm throughout.

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1. Favorite word?

"Monarch takes no heed of this miracleBut his hands are only used to persecute us on this ground"

— Agrippa d'Aubigné ["God"]

2. Favorite board game?

I don't do it. But a little Igo or Shogi.

5. Favorite piece of equipment?

Acoustic guitar, banjo.

10. Favorite lyric?

Seneca, Dante, Saisei Muroo, Rohan Koda, etc.

11. Favorite music video?

I don't have TV or DVD system.

15. Favorite exhibit or subject at the museum?

Hokusai at British museum. Buddhist statue at Japan national museum. Goya, Bruegel and Bosch in Madrid.

27. Favorite chord/chord progression?

I don't have any correct musical name on chords. Actually I don't play in standard tuning. Sorry, I'm very bad at musical knowledge.

31. Other than musician, what career would you most enjoy?

My occupation, acupuncture and moxhibation to cure people in sickness.

32. Best thing you learned this week/month?

How I love American people very much. But how I hate their government. "Honk to impeach!"

38. What is your family like?

Very ordinary, peaceful one outside of Tokyo.

46. Where do you keep things hidden? What do you keep hidden there?

Hide nothing. Drainage only.

60. What's the worst show you've ever played? What would you have done different?

In 1984 we were arrested because we played in front of [a] police building.

64. Weirdest promotion you've been a part of?

Oh Buddha, in-store show[s are] always very weird to me......

65. Ever see yourself penning the score/soundtrack to a TV show or film?

Soul is desertful*, directed by daughter of movie director who [did] Suspiria.

71. How well do you feel your music lends itself to remixing or being covered?

None did it, maybe.

74. Better to burn out or to fade away?

Better to cure everybody, hopefully by music, too.

79. Best concert you've ever been to?

In 1988, Live Temple show at Seiryu temple.

90. Sexiest thing about you?

No idea.

93. What was the longest show you ever played? What was different?

We always play very long in Japan. In foreign countries it used to be very short, at least 2 hours, because we usually play improvisation.

98. Would you say that there's somewhat of a political undertone to your music? If so, what motivates it?

Maybe yes. Because politics is ours, not for politicians who let slip the dogs of the WAR. If we say [we] agree to WAR, there's no insist[ence] for music.

* DAVECAT: I'm not sure what film Batoh is referring to; I can find no reference to it online. I suspect the title he mentions is the result of translation from something (Italian? English?), to Japanese, then back to English, or (as is frequently the case) that one of her films was given a different name for its foreign release.

6.25.2008

If you live outside of Australia, chances are pretty good you haven't gotten to hear Gotye—yet. At home, Gotye (the one-man act of Wally DeBacker) is an award-winning indie pop star, pulling down an ARIA (the Aussie Grammy) for best male artist in 2007 and a Most Outstanding New Independent Artist award in 2006 for his album Like Drawing Blood, which went gold.

Now Like Drawing Blood is hitting Europe and Japan later this year, behind lead single "Hearts A Mess," a track Davecat has been putting on pretty much every mixtape he's made since it came out. Everyone needs to hear this song (no, really), and now, soon, you'll be able to get the album without the hefty import fees (assuming you don't live on the left side of the map). Wally was kind enough to take some time from rocking the rest of the world to be our second Aleatory interviewee, and we couldn't be happier.

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9. Favorite song to start (or end) a mixtape with?

"In My Pants" by The Reddings. Defies description. Everyone should find outwhat this song is about.

10. Favorite lyric?

Well, I might as well elaborate a little on that Reddings track.

"There's a girl name [insert garbled name that rhymes with, um, something like "blurl" here], who took me round the world- every place she thought I should be. I said "hey- wait a minute. My rank as a lieutenant- in the army of the freaks". No sense. Absolute gold.

22. Favorite vice?

Nutella. With a side of nutella.23. Favorite natural oddity?

Metamorphosis. CATERPILLARS TURN INTO BUTTERFLIES PEOPLE! HOLY SHIT!

27. Favorite chord/chord progression?

The one from the chorus of Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb". And also Urban Cookie Collective's "The Key, The Secret". And 65.37% of other pop songs ever written. It's something like C, G, Bb, F.

31. Other than musician, what career would you most enjoy?

Highway toll collector. Every day's different.

32. Best thing you learned this week/month?

CATERPILLARS TURN INTO BUTTERFLIES PEOPLE! Wait... I found that out last month. Hmmm... I learned about Iran's history (from a graphic novel called Persepolis). It's bloody terrible. And I felt both intensely thankful and guilty for the luxurious, safe and wasteful existence we enjoy/exploit in Australia and other parts of the western world.

34. What's the best joke you heard recently?

Apparently the shortest joke ever. Very American. Not very funny. But here it is: "Pretentious? Moi?"

35. What's the best place you've randomly discovered while on tour?

Having a roll of toilet paper on you at all times is incredibly helpful. Particularly when preparing to go on stage and beset by a last minute toilet call in a venue whose toilet you haven't checked out beforehand.

38. What is your family like?

Brilliant. Loving and inspiring and supportive. I'm incredibly lucky.

46. Where do you keep things hidden? What do you keep hidden there?

On my hard drive in a folder called "BoringSoftwareDriversYouWouldn'tEverNeedToLookAt". In it, there are LOLcats.

47. Biggest fear?

Someone discovering my LOLcats collection.

51. What are you currently obsessed with?

The newest record player I bought. It's a tiny model of a Volkswagon "combivan" (I dunno what folks outside Australia call this particular model of van) with a stylus attached to the bottom. It drives around vinyl you place on the floor, and has a little built in speaker to play the music. I bought it in New York and although it warbles, skates and has a terribly tinny sound, it's still the best record player ever.

54. So far in your career, what's been your proudest accomplishment?

Getting the first copies of the "Hearts A Mess" 7" single on vinyl. It's not really like I manufactured them, but it felt great to see my first vinyl release. The artwork looked brilliant, the vinyl master and cut was pretty good, I'm proud of the song, and I felt proud all over.

57. Most rock star thing you've ever done?

Admonishing the audience for yabbering loudly in the front row during a show. As it turns out, they were yabbering about how they wanted to bonk me. But all I heard was distracting chatter. Wait... the most rock star thing I've done is brag in an e-interview about fans discussing wanting to bonk me in the front row of one of my shows.

64. Weirdest promotion you've been a part of?

Promoting myself. It gets stranger every time I speak. Did you know I was born in an airoplane that crash-landed on the tip of K2? I crawled down the peak (at age 0, yes) and was raised by villagers until I left my adopted parents to become a world-famous pastry chef. Where did I go to begin my brilliant career? Antarctica of course. Great weather there.

68. Favorite interview you've ever been a part of (aside from this one, obviously)?

One in Japan where the fellow tried speaking English for an hour. He couldn't speak English. I just replied in Japlish-isms. Things like "YOU OUGHT TO GET DO SOME A LITTLE EXERCISE .EVERYDAY" and "ERIC CRAPTON".71. How well do you feel your music lends itself to remixing or being covered?

It's fine I guess. Depends on who's doing the reworking.

86. With Radiohead's In Rainbows release and Nine Inch Nails doing boffo business with his online releases, do you see yourself ever doing some alternative kind of release for any of your future projects?

It's something I've been thinking about for the next record. Not that I've got the massive profile and existing fan base to be able to support such adventurous and progressive release strategies. But you gotta think big, and original, to get places.

88. What's your deepest source for musical inspiration?

The deep, deep boom of an 808 deep kick drum on the bottom of the deepest deep house track you've ever deeped. I mean heard. It's so deep I almost experience brown note response.

6.23.2008

Few discographies are as intimidating as Phil Elvrum's. As The Microphones (and later as Mount Eerie), Elvrum crafts nothing but powerful, complex indie-rock epics that transcend their bare-bones recording environments to become something far more orchestral in nature. As a producer, he's helped create soundscapes for artists like Mirah, Little Wings, and Beat Happening. As an interviewee, he becomes the first subject of the GlobecatAleatory -- that famed list of 20 randomized questions -- and his responses are as wickedly funny as they are surprisingly insightful. Ladies and gentlemen: Phil Elvrum.

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1. Favorite word?

The word "favorite" is terrifying for me. I can not choose favorites. I can't say "best" except in ironic hyperbole. So all these answers are not favorite or best or worst or anything. They are just one answer of many. I hope I make sense.

4. Favorite person to have worked with?

Julie Doiron, recently.

5. Favorite piece of equipment?

Printing press.

7. Favorite composer?

G.I. Gurdjieff & Thomas deHartmann.

12. Favorite band when you were in high school?

Eric's Trip.

13. Favorite Shakespearean play?

Macbeth.

15. Favorite exhibit or subject at the museum?

The entire Museum of Jurassic Technology in LA.

29. Who do you wish more people were listening to?

Gary Snyder.

32. Best thing you learned this week/month?

French.

52. At what point did you realize that music was going to be your full-time occupation?

Still haven't.

60. What's the worst show you've ever played? What would you have done different?

So many horrible ones I can't choose. In many cases nothing could have been done.

63. Band/artist you're secretly envious of?

secret

66. Worst song you've heard recently?

"Lisa, It's Your Birthday" by "Michael Jackson" in that one Simpsons episode.

71. How well do you feel your music lends itself to remixing or being covered?

Poorly. My songs are too much about my own weird shit. It would seem weird coming from someone else. Remixes would be fine though I think.

73. Are there any songs that you're working on right now?

Yes.

82. Current pop song that you would file under "guilty pleasure"?

I feel no guilt. I love so much weird normal people stuff. It's just music.

89. You just died. I'm sorry. Fortunately, your will states that you want very specific music to be played at your funeral. What did you choose?

Sunn O)))

92. Which venue are you dying to play but have not yet had the chance to?

I would like to play on the Earth's moon.

96. The one thing that no one knows about you (yet)?

I just ate a burrito.

98. Would you say that there's somewhat of a political undertone to your music? If so, what motivates it?

Maybe, yes. I feel like we humans could do better. I am motivated to say what I think because people are paying attention to me.

99. Licensing your music out to companies for TV ads: good or bad?

In most cases bad. But what if it was a TV ad for something I really felt ethically obliged to help promote? Like a tall frosty Heineken?

6.21.2008

You may not know this, but Harvey Danger — the band responsible for the '97 alt-rock hit "Flagpole Sitta" — are also responsible for one of the best albums of the new millennium.

Following the release of "Flagpole Sitta" and its parent album, Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone?, singer/frontman Sean Nelson and co. began working on what would eventually become King James Version, a sprawling, absolutely stunning lyrical and musical tour-de-force that has gone on to gain somewhat of a cult-classic status amongst devout fans. Yet, as is the case with most great music put out through a major label, the album bombed, despite a decent marketing push and a brand name to go off of. Though King James Version would eventually go out of print, people eventually wound up discovering it through friends, budget bins, and random recommendations, gradually sustaining the audience for a band that was all but doomed to Buzzcuts!-styled one-hit wonderdom. When the time came around to release their more pop-rooted third disc, Little By Little, the band decided to release it for free online, allowing fans to either download the entire thing for nothing or plopping down a few bucks to get the album in CD format with a bonus disc of outtakes and demos. Oh, and this was years before Radiohead released In Rainbows (wink).

Yet Sean Nelson hasn't exactly been quiet since then: he's guested on albums of friends (Long Winters, Death Cab for Cutie), began touring with longtime idol Robyn Hitchcock, dabbled in a slew of solo projects while keeping up his career as a writer, even penning a book about Joni Mitchell's classic LP Court and Spark. It's been a long, strange, and fantastic journey for Nelson, and here (with Evcat) he reflects on his accomplishments, his regrets, and the painful regret of saying "no" to Paul Shaffer ...

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>>I remember when Little By Little first came out, and you guys did something highly unconventional by releasing the album for free to all, allowing people to pay for the CD version with bonus disc if they so desired. Years later, of course, Radiohead did their famed In Rainbows experiment along with NIN and all those other people following in their footsteps. How do you envision releasing HD's music in the future now that this model has become somewhat commonplace?

Well, it wasn't exactly a radical new idea when we did it, but it was definitely novel, and hugely successful as an experiment for us. We spent way too much money to make the record, then gave ourselves a year to break even, and we did it in nine months, with less than a month of touring. More importantly, we reached a quarter of a million listeners. Now let's say only 10% of those people actually listened to and liked the record—that's still 25,000 human beings taking the time to examine the work you've done. That is inherently a massive success from my perspective. I personally know many bands who have to tour for years to reach half that many people. That's almost exactly the number of people who bought our second album, King James Version, which came out on a major label, and on which close to a million dollars was spent to make and market, all told. That record was deemed a crashing failure, but to me, 20,000, 25,000—that's a lot of people. More people than I can imagine knowing. More people than I would like to play to at once (though we have played to that many and more several times).

When we had a hit single 10 years ago, we found ourselves playing to lots of people who were very obviously waiting for the one song, and weren't concerned with the rest of our set, or any of the other things that matter about a band (to me, anyway). It was disorienting, but we came away from that experience and the subsequent years of wandering with the conviction that 'tis a far, far better thing to play to 300-600 people who really want to be there, who really care about the whole picture, than 1,000 people waiting to hear the one song they've heard on the radio or TV. (Not that those people are bad, they're just a bad audience, both easy to please and impossible to satisfy.) Anyway, the free record gambit sort of arose from that feeling, as well as the sense that we sort of made no sense within any existing version of the music business. Clearly, we don't belong on a major, since we're unlikely candidates for mass appeal, even in the unlikeliest scenario (even in the scenario in which we had mass appeal...). And we don't really belong on an indie either, because we're unwilling and unable to tour for any real length of time. (Being neither young nor cool represent further difficulties.) To let people just have the record we were so proud of was our way of removing all the boundaries that culture and industry and circumstance place between bands and listeners.

The idea was hatched by our guitar/piano player Jeff after a dispiriting trip down to SXSW just after we'd made the record. His plan was not simply to give the record away, but make a kind of event out of it, and thereby to give voice to a long-held feeling we all had that the way the music industry works with/against bands is a major problem. And he did almost all the hard work from a technical perspective, and it nearly broke him. But it didn't, and the record came out, and lots of people liked it and lots of people didn't, and now it's three years later; more people know about us in a good way, we play shows when we want, and we were able to feel the satisfaction of circumventing a business that was never a good fit for us. Also, it's gratifying to find that Harvey Danger gets mentioned in a lot of the business page articles about the higher profile free releases like Radiohead and NIN, bands that obviously represent a strong break with the old way— and that were a lot smarter about the way they constructed their download pages...

And people who argue against it are cynical idiots. I mean, if you don't want to do it, that's obviously fine, but the idea that Radiohead is killing music or devaluing it or whatever Gene Simmons and Lily Allen are saying is so plainly a corporate brainwash job. Clearly, it's a viable path for bands that have devoted followings who don't want to go through the nightmarish sausage grind of major label tempo and economics. Still, at this point, the philosophical underpinnings that were such a big part of it for us (see the non-manifesto on our site http://www.harveydanger.com/press/why.php) feel a little bedraggled, or at least obvious—like the reasoning has been transmogrified into a marketing device. Which is inevitable. It just isn't that inspiring. As for the future, I really don't know, because it will depend on what the music sounds like. And all we have now are fragments. Harvey Danger is a glacier, not a hydofoil. I would go the free route again happily, but I'd prefer a scenario in which someone else did enough of the back-end work that the band could really just make the music. I mean, labels may not be good for much, but they're good for that.

>>At your 10-year anniversary shows earlier this year, you dedicated one night to performing both Merrymaker and your various B-sides and rarities. Given how you were still pumping out B-sides for your Kill Rock Stars singles, do you feel that there's life to be found in B-side in age of iTunes?

"B-side" is clearly a euphemism, as the vinyl single isn't much of a commodity these days (though I still buy them and we did at last make one). But as for the notion of the non-album song having worth in the post-album age, I would say hell yes, maybe more than ever. The advent of the digital music store makes the orphan songs all the more appealing for reissues and deluxe versions, etc. They're the "free sticker with purchase" of the non-physical realm. But it's not just business. I know that our unreleased material is the stuff that still gnaws at me, the stuff I wish people could hear. Even though a song like "Defrocked" (say, not that anyone reading this is likely be familiar with it, but just play along) didn't make sense in the context of King James Version — largely because it would've competed with "Underground" (again, play along) — I still feel like it's maybe our most impressive recording. I mean a lot of songs get cut from albums because they just aren't that awesome, too. But if you love a band, chances are you're at least interested in hearing their lesser works too. They help you appreciate the better material more.

I cite R.E.M.'s Dead Letter Office. Not many great songs, but a fucking lot of great parts, great ideas, and a cover of Aerosmith that I still prefer to the original. Plus the liner notes! Obviously, this shit is for nerds only. But nerds are my people. And to the people who have liked our band for a long time, whose desire for Harvey Danger music was too intense to be slaked by our three albums, those "B-sides" have become much beloved. It's very easy to be a music fan nowadays. Maybe too easy. I remember when you used to have to work to learn ANYTHING about the bands you liked; you really had to know where to look and whom to ask. Collectors were like mystics. A rare B-side or bootleg of an unreleased song or live show was a treasure. A treasure. Now it's just trash on a hard drive. It's probably better now that there are 50 websites publishing arcane gossip and news about every band imaginable several times a day. But the lost song is some tiny little throwback to the days when band artifacts had a bit more mystery than they do now. Of course, I say that with the full realization that every demo we ever recorded since 1993 is probably fully downloadable on a hundred different servers. SUCKERS!!!

>>You have acknowledged in your personal blog that King James Version has reached a cult-classic kind of status (and deservedly so). Does it feel strange having an album like that under your belt but not having many people hear it? Are there any plans to re-release it?

At various points, including the time before it came out originally, there have been plans to release or re-release KJV in a deluxe edition (including a bonus disc of B-sides, demos and rarities called "Dead Sea Scrolls") on Barsuk Records, a label that I am a partner in. But for a variety of boring businessy reasons (that can be blamed, predictably, on a major entertainment corporation), it seems like it isn't going to happen (which fucking kills me in all candor — I'd at least like to see a version of Tae Won Yu's cover art that employs the intended shade of blue). Maybe one day. If I were a gambling man, I'd say no. But like I said above, the unavailability makes it more precious. (Not that you can't buy it on iTunes for $10, though...)

>>Do you feel haunted by "Flagpole Sitta" at all?

Once every fortnight or so, someone — either a total stranger or a person I know — either makes some reference to it, or sings part of it to me, or tells me how much they love it, or tells me how much they hate it, or asks me if it made me rich, or assumes it's the reason I'm such a success in the music business or such a failure in the music business. In some ways it has helped me a lot to be the singer and co-writer of that song. In other ways, it has really shackled me to a certain time and identity that I don't relate to anymore. So I would say yes, I do feel haunted by it to a degree, or at least shadowed by it. Then again, the things I describe above used to happen every day (literally). So I guess I have made some progress. I don't necessarily run screaming from a room when it comes on. I do walk, though. The best thing about "Flagpole Sitta" so far is that it is the theme song to a really smart and funny British sitcom called Peep Show. It's the only pop culture item the song has been associated with that feels like a kindred spirit to the original attitude of the lyric anyway. It helps one remember that it did start out as just a fun little thing we did in our practice space. It felt good at first.

>>Harvey Danger have gradually evolved from a guitar-based alt-rock band (Merrymakers) to a more piano-oriented pop group (as evidenced by Little). Especially with your involvement with the Barsuk crowd (Long Winters, Death Cab), where do you see the Harvey Danger sound moving to in the immediate future?

Well, the move to piano for Little By Little... had a lot to do with me trying to coax Jeff into putting down the guitar so we could try something new. He has some training on the piano — but not as much as say, a Victor Borge — and as a result was always self-conscious about playing it in a rock context. But he has greater facility and a different (I think wider, though he may disagree) expressive range on the keys than on the guitar and the words I was coming up with around that time felt like they might benefit from a bit of that. Plus I always felt like the piano-cello-vocal ground we covered on "Pike Street/Park Slope," from the second album was really fertile. And sure enough, songs like "Wine, Women and Song," "Little Round Mirrors," "War Buddies," "Happiness Writes White," and "Moral Centralia" are the real powerhouse, stand-out songs from that album, whereas the guitar-driven numbers feel a little less killer for some reason. But then, after playing these things for a while, we are all longing to rock out more like we used to—in a live setting, the more thoughtful and melodically interesting songs go over fine, but it's older rockers like "Show Me the Hero," "Authenticity," "Terminal Annex," and "Carlotta Valdez" that really get people going. So I don't know: between the influences of This Year's Model and Odessey and Oracle there is a lot of room to maneuver.

As for the Barsuk connection ... we know those bands socially, and are basically friends with them, but there's no real sense of musical compatibility or community. The two bands you mentioned are in a totally different world from ours. I mean, Death Cab, obviously; they had the number one album in the country the other week — it's very pleasing to know I called it 10 years ago, but that doesn't bring us any closer to being peers in the way you suggest. Even when we played with them in the past, it was pretty obvious that we were coming from fundamentally different places (and that one day we would likely be a footnote in their history). The chief difference, of course, is that both those bands are full-time operations trying to make a living through music. That could never be us. We tried it. It was suicidal despair and alienation and rancor and self-doubt and mutual resentment from the minute we got in the van. Then we stopped and we were happier. Now, we play when we feel like it, and we are a lot better on stage then we ever were before. We write when we're ready to spend time together, and the fact that far fewer people are interested (but the ones who are are far more interested) allows us to take risks we wouldn't have otherwise. If we make another record, it will happen when we're up for it, which may not be for a while. By most indie rock band standards, we are ridiculously lazy. But then, Scritti Politti takes as much as 14 years between albums, and the last one was the best ever, so that's something to consider. At this point, the only reason to be in Harvey Danger is for the pleasure we ourselves derive from it — and we have to watch out because we all have radically different standards of what constitutes pleasure. One thing that affords no pleasure is trying to keep up with or otherwise sound like the sound of today. Especially now. It just seems irrelevant to our M.O. I know that's not exactly an answer to your question, but it's sort of an answer to mine.

From a professional standpoint I have so many regrets that it's actually painful to choose just one. But I daresay the one I have regretted the most acutely the greatest number of times, one we made collectively (as opposed to the things I fucked up personally on the band's behalf), was the time we played on The Late Show with David Letterman and Paul Shaffer asked us if we wanted him and his orchestra to sit in with us, and we said NO because we thought it would make us seem less "credible" or too corporate or something. The fucking idiocy. I mean making decisons based on that particular shoulder chip is stupid enough, but the absolute lack of imagination and showmanship when faced with the prospect of all those amazing players (including a whole horn section!) at our disposal to make what could have been a memorable spectacle... Of course, those were different times, as good old Lou Reed would remind us, but I'm not ashamed to say that decision has kept me up more than one night in the decade since we made it.

As for accomplishments, I think the making of Little By Little..., the internet release and license to Kill Rock Stars, the subsequent touring — however minimal — and the overall response to the album has given me a sense of self-determination I really lost during our major label period. More than that, it kind of closed the books on the life-altering disappointment that followed the sort of non-release of King James Version, which was an album that I personally and we collectively invested in completely. We really put all we had into it, and more, and just never lost faith that it was going to advance us artistically and somehow vindicate the compromised success of the first album. And then it was like it never happened. I'd met lots of people over the years who told me they knew of the album, had bought it for a penny on eBay, had found it one evening out someone's coffee table, had discovered an entire landfill made out of it, and it always made me grateful. But really going out into the world and seeing the way people had internalized the songs, knew every word, leaped for joy when the opening chords rang out—it simply alleviated several years' worth of compounded anxiety and allowed me to move on. And away from music in a certain regard. Not entirely, but certainly further away than I thought I ever would go. Moreover, I look back on the music we made (as opposed to the videos, the photos, the interviews, the live shows, etc.) and I'm proud to know that we always meant it—possibly because we didn't have the kind of skills required to be more crassly opportunistic, but more likely because there's a conscience in our music, befuddled though it may be at times. I suppose my proudest accomplishment is that I can still hear it.

6.16.2008

You may not know Will Stratton, but you totally should. He's only 21 years old, yet last year he quietly released What the Night Said (Stunning Models on Display), which, in Evcat's eyes, was the single best album of 2007. Then, in a surprising act of humility and connection, he released For No One—an album filled with outtakes and demos—for free on his homepage (download it here). He writes with an acoustic in the vein of Nick Drake and Sufjan Stevens, yet sidesteps easy comparisons by writing songs that are unabashedly modern and—as on "Katydid"—actually feature Sufjan Stevens. Globecat couldn't have found a better first interviewee, and Stratton was more than happy to oblige our questions.

+++

>>How did you first get introduced to the world of making music? Did you ever see yourself going as far as you have?

A couple years ago I saw an old home video of me and my aunt playing piano together. I think she was playing a Chopin mazurka or something like that, and I was sitting next to her on the bench in my diaper playing this strange baby music, very slow and delicate and not entirely in the wrong key. I must have been two years old in that particular video, so I don't think I can remember far back enough to answer the first part of the question completely honestly. But myparents signed me up for piano lessons when I was four, I startedplaying guitar when I was twelve, and I started composing with serious intentions probably a year or two after that.

I have always wanted to make music that moved people, and I think in that sense I have succeeded so far. But now that I have one record out there is so much more that I want to do, and that I feel capable of, and that feeling is a lot more powerful than any lingering feelings of accomplishment. The reception that What the Night Said got was definitely fun for me to see, and hopefully the second album won'tfall short of anyone's expectations. I guess in that sense I'm glad that What the Night Said wasn't one of those huge, overhyped records like Vampire Weekend's or something—it would have been just like, "yeah, okay, I get it, it's cool to like my music right now." It also would have been completely undeserved, I think, because it was such an easy, quick record to make, and it certainly wasn't as good as a lot of people have been saying. So instead it was really cool, because it felt like some people really stuck their necks out for me. Anyway, I'd rather have one that really takes a lot out of me be the one to completely blow people's minds. But that doesn't really answer your question either! No, I never thought I would be a musician that people looked up to or anything like that when I was growing up. I alwayswanted to change the world just like most people do when they're little.

>>You have, of course, the strange challenge of balancing releasing music while also studying for your college degree (heretofore known as "Rivers Cuomo Syndrome"). Especially with your getting a degree in Music Composition, do you find it easy to integrate these two career paths? Do you wish you could do one thing exclusively?

I don't know if I would call either one a career path quite yet, but I really wish I could make a living doing both, and exploring the ways in which they intersect. I want to write music for films, and I want to do arrangements for other people's music. It is weird being in school at this point in my life, though, when all that I really want to do is make records and tour. I try not to play too many shows at school because it's a really small place and I don't want to be that guy with a guitar who always plays the same songs. I only have one year left now, though, so I won't have that problem too much longer, hopefully. I don't think I will ever be able to do music exclusively, to be honest. I think I'll probably teach English or History somewhere and tour in the summer, Bob Pollard style.

I think that the chamber music that I have written has mostly been about transcendent, elemental forces in nature, and my pop music has been about very specific places, and very specific moments in time. Sometimes in the instrumental sections of my pop music I try to make the two overlap.

>>What do you hope a listener will take out of a Will Stratton song?

That's a tough one. Mostly it depends on the song, but mainly I just want to make music that makes people feel more connected to each other and to life in general. It's easier to explain in negative terms—I'd definitely be lying I said if there was no artifice in my music, but I hate certain types of affectation in music, the kinds that create distance between people. So I hope that my songs will make people genuinely happy, or genuinely something. Visceral reactions in music are underrated these days. It's like people are afraid to be caught being sincere. Which is the worst kind of disease that a culture can have, I think.

>>What has been the most surprising thing to happen to you in the wake of What the Night Said?

Just making that album was kind of surreal—I had just gotten out of high school, and was commuting that summer because some guy in New York had heard my songs on the internet and wanted to help me make an album and release it—and best of all, it wasn't a scam!

Other than that, just the response in general has been surprising, and really gratifying. When I played at Cakeshop in New York, there were a lot of strangers there to see me. Bearded dudes and beautiful girls coming up to me and saying they love my music. But other that, I don'tknow if anything really surprising has happened. My life is not very exciting. It's not like I get recognized on the street or anything crazy like that.

>>You recently releasedFor No One—a selection of demos and outtakes—for free on your website. Why not hoard them for yourself or for album/iPod commercial consideration?

I just don't think any of them are good enough for an album of mine, and so I don't want to charge people for them. If someone wants to use one in a commercial, though, as long as it's not for Walmart or Halliburton or something, believe me, I'm all ears—I have a lot of college debt to pay off! There are a bunch more outtakes on the way, because I keep writing songs that I don't want to save for a third album, but I'm not sure if I will release them before or after the next album comes out. Probably a little bit before.

>>What can we most look forward to in Will Stratton's immediate future?

Well, I'm in New York right now finishing this album. I'm excited to see what people think. In my mind, it's definitely an improvement over the last one. I don't know when it will be out, though. Before that, like I said, I'll probably put up another collection of songs that have been abandoned and versions of songs that didn't make the cut. There's a little tour coming up where I'm going to be going to god knows where. I wish I could be more specific about both things but I don't want to give anything more away about the album and I actually don't know anything about this little tour. I can't wait to finish this album so I can get on to making the next one. It's definitely an addictive process. I'm not an obsessive person, and I don't think I'm usually all that meticulous about details, but the artistic form of the album brings out both of those things in me, and those are hard tendencies to shake when you're doing something that you love doing.

6.14.2008

Globecat was founded in the summer of 2008 as a joint venture between Evan Sawdey and David Semonchik, college friends, bandmates, writing students, and all-around music junkies. After many discussions on the nature of album reviews, artist interviews, and the difficulties associated with the process of discovering new music and sharing it with the world, the two decided to start their own blog, in hopes of letting the musicians take part in getting their voices heard.

Essential in the creation of Globecat are Ben Durdle (website design) and Anna Hurley (graphic design), without whom none of this could have gotten off the ground. All of them can be reached at globecatmusic [at] gmail [dot] com.

Evan "Evcat" Sawdey: When not writing for Globecat, Evan bides his time as the Interviews Editor for PopMatters.com, having also contributed to publications like SLUG Magazine, The Knox Student, and Soundvenue Magazine (Denmark). His work has been quoted and republished in papers as far-reaching as the Houston Chronicle, the Calgary Times, and the U.K. Metro. He currently resides in Salt Lake City, UT.

Benjamin "Bencat" Durdle: This Midwestern troubadour and nomad of trades was born in Galesburg, IL, where he studied Studio Art at Knox College briefly before moving to Chicago to take up Architecture and knife-juggling. He has since studied at the NY Studio School and spent six months studying in Barcelona and traveling much of the old world. He worked for the international architecture firm Gensler and Midwest archiwizards Gere/Dismer. None of these achievements have much of anything to do with a music website or have proven to provide anything resembling a living wage. Likes books.

David “Davecat” Semonchik: Originally from Batavia, IL, David studied Creative Writing and Spanish at KnoxCollege, where he met both Evan and Ben (and Stephen Colbert). A recent graduate with nowhere to go, David spends his time reading, writing fiction, composing for and sound designing plays (including Cloud 9 and the English-language world premiere of Rosa and Blanca), playing guitar, and making a living out of baking bread.

Anna "Annacat" Hurley: Anna, who always feels slightly guilty when folding down the corner of pages in a book as a placeholder and usually sits looking at the page for a few moments before finally deciding to do so, enjoys the sound of a tea cup clinking against its saucer but doesn't much care to drink it, and very much likes Laundromats but not the idea of actually using one for its intended purpose, and who, if she had to choose between a world without genocide or one without powdered milk, would still choose one without genocide but would take a long time to reach that decision, works at a quaint letterpress design shop by day making pretty things and ridding the streets of crime by night. She also listens to music on occasion.

a·le·a·to·ry1. of or pertaining to accidental causes; of luck or chance; unpredictable: an aleatory element.2. Music. employing the element of chance in the choice of tones, rests, durations, rhythms, dynamics, etc.3. of uncertain outcome, lit. "depending on the throw of a die" (from Latin alea, "a die, the dice")

—from Dictionary.com

Many music review websites feature questionnaires that they send out to the musicians they review, a set of twentyish stock questions that act as a way to sort of catch up with an artist and find out what they've been up to (and what they've been listening to) recently.

The Aleatory (designed by Davecat) is our version, with a twist: dice are rolled to determine which 20 questions, from a list of 100, each artist is asked, adding a bit of randomness and fate to an otherwise straightforward, traditional survey. The list of all 100 questions is as follows:

70. What is a personal belief you hold that you would fight for to the death?

71. How well do you feel your music lends itself to remixing or being covered?

72. A few years ago, Beck gave an interview for SPIN in which he lamented the glut of reality TV shows and blogs about musicians, wanting to know less details about their life because he felt they were more mysterious that way (he liked to envision Devo as living in a crazed art-deco pyramid when he was young, instead of just some guys in a tour bus). Do you feel that there's a lack of mystique out there for musicians in today's YouTube age? Do you feel your band carries any mystique?

85. What's the biggest mistake you've made that you inadvertently learned a great lesson from?

86. With Radiohead's In Rainbows release and Nine Inch Nails doing boffo business with his online releases, do you see yourself ever doing some alterative kind of release for any of your future projects?

97. Your label wants to do a music video for a song off your album, and have inexplicably procured $1,000,000 as a budget, then decide that you'd best direct the visual accompaniment to your own music. What song do you choose, and what will your video look like?

98. Would you say that there's somewhat of a political undertone to your music? If so, what motivates it?

Music—all music—creates a direct connection between artists and listeners: the artists, releasing their music as an album, are able to deeply affect their audience on a visceral level, whether by making them sing along and dance wildly, or by making them cry, or anything else in between.

However, connecting artists to their potential listeners is often a flawed process. Before a listener picks up an album by a band they've never heard of—or even the newest release from a band they've liked in the past—he or she may do some research, looking around online for what others have said about it. The writers of these reviews, who may or may not share the same taste in music as the potential listener, add additional layers between artist and audience, and their opinions color any perception the listener might have of the album should he or she decide to buy it. The reviewers act as filters, or even distortions, channeling the most subjective experience of all, the appreciation of art, through ears attached to someone else's head. If those ears don't like what they heard, the review will be unfavorable, and albums that a listener might fall in love with never reach them, cut off in the process.

This is not meant to demonize album reviewers, whose job we respect, appreciate, and have relied on in the past for countless recommendations. Our goal, however, is different from theirs. Instead of relying on third-party opinions to recommend albums, Globecat lets the artists speak for themselves.

In the spirit of keeping the connection between musician and audience as unfiltered as possible, Globecat publishes interviews, questionnaires (in the form of the Aleatory) and exposés written by artists, for listeners, so that nothing is left out or lost in the translation that takes place during the album review process. By letting the artists speak about their own work, the goals behind it, the heartbreaks, struggles, triumphs, and celebrations inherent in its creation and distribution to audiences around the world, the channel is kept clean, and the connection between musician and audience remains strong. Our job is mainly editorial, not editorializing; the words belong to the artists. Globecat is merely the place they are all gathered together for everyone to read.

About Us / Contact

Globecat was founded in the summer of 2008 as a joint venture between Evan Sawdey and David Semonchik, college friends, bandmates, writing students, and all-around music junkies. After many discussions on the nature of album reviews, artist interviews, and the difficulties associated with the process of discovering new music and sharing it with the world, the two decided to start their own blog, in hopes of letting the musicians take part in getting their voices heard.

Essential in the creation of Globecat are Ben Durdle (website design) and Anna Hurley (graphic design), without whom none of this could have gotten off the ground.

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